


remind me of you

by taejinyo



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Nipple Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taejinyo/pseuds/taejinyo
Summary: zhengting returns home with a gift for xukun.





	remind me of you

zhengting hasn’t seen xukun in four months.

 

but here he is, standing in front of xukun’s door, suitcase still dragging behind him. he’s come straight from the airport and he’s incredibly nervous. they’ve talked over the phone, of course, almost every night. and they’ve definitely facetimed more times than zhengting can count. xukun even visited him in korea back in march, when zhengting first came to korea for his schedules. but that was before, well, before zhengting went and did _something_ when he was a little too drunk on adrenaline and self-confidence.

 

this will be the first time he’s actually seen xukun in person since, and it’s considerably easier to hide nipple piercings over the phone than it is when xukun’s standing right in front of him, with that self-assured grin on his face as he comes forward to engulf zhengting in a hug as zhengting pushes open the door to xukun’s apartment. xukun’s chest presses up against zhengting’s own, and zhengting lets out a breathy exhale as the fabric of his shirt scrapes against the barbell in his left nipple.

 

“hi, kun,” he says, plastering a smile on his face as he wraps his arms around the smaller boy’s shoulders. “i missed you.”

 

“yeah,” xukun says, taking in zhengting’s scent, letting his hands drop to zhengting’s waist. “me too.” he kisses zhengting, his lips moving against the other boy’s mouth. it’s almost innocent, until zhengting feels xukun’s hands creep up past the waist of his jeans, beneath his shirt and against his skin.

 

“xukun,” he says dryly, even though his heart is beating twice its’ regular speed as he thinks about what xukun will find if his hands go any higher up. “at least wait until i put my suitcase away.”

 

“you can do that later,” xukun pouts, but slides his hands away and steps back to give zhengting space. he crosses his arms against his chest and leans against the wall, watching as zhengting slips his shoes off. he seems to be thinking about something, and zhengting almost wants to ask what’s wrong. “i made coffee,” xukun says.

 

zhengting perks up. he pushes past xukun into the kitchen, and sighs happily when he sees the pair of steaming mugs on the table. sinking into the seat, he wraps his fingers around the warmth of the mug and takes a long sip. “ah,” he closes his eyes and says, “this is what i missed.”

 

across from him, xukun stirs his own coffee. the metal spoon clinks against the inside of the mug, swishing the liquid side to side. his gaze doesn’t leave zhengting’s face.

 

zhengting pretends not to notice.

 

“right,” xukun says, no inflection in his tone. “of course.” he lifts his mug to his lips. when he puts it back down, there’s still a drop of liquid at the edge of his mouth. zhengting reaches out across the table to wipe it away. before he can pull his fingers back, xukun catches them with his own and holds on tight, turning zhengting’s wrist towards him.

 

“zhengting,” he says, with a voice like silk. zhengting shivers at the feeling of a warm breath against his pulse. “you wouldn’t be hiding anything from me, would you?”

 

“why would you think that,” zhengting whispers, staring at where xukun’s lips are drifting by his skin, entranced. xukun grazes his mouth against zhengting’s wrist, the opens it and bites down, _hard._

 

the pain shocks a low whine from zhengting’s throat. xukun licks his lips.

 

“kitten,” he calls softly, and zhengting’s heartbeat stutters in his chest.

 

“come here,” he says, and zhengting knows that it’s an order.

 

he rises jerkily, moves around the table like he’s hypnotized. he kneels at xukun’s feet, setting his hands on xukun’s thighs and nuzzling his face into xukun’s palm. the floor is hard against his knees, but he doesn’t even notice as he gazes up at xukun with wide eyes. “it was supposed to be a surprise,” zhengting murmurs.

 

xukun’s fingers curl around his cheek, pressing into his skin. “what was supposed to be a surprise,” he asks.

 

instead of answering, zhengting takes xukun’s hand in his own and brings it to his chest, pushing it up against his right nipple so that xukun can feel the hard metal through his shirt, and _moans._

 

xukun freezes.

 

zhengting drags xukun’s hand to the left, carefully, slowly, deliberately. xukun doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. “well,” zhengting blinks up at him, biting his lip, “do you like it?”

 

“take it off,” xukun says, so quietly zhengting has to strain his ears to hear it.

 

“what,” zhengting frowns.

 

xukun doesn’t bother repeating himself. he reaches down to clench his fingers into the collar of zhengting’s shirt and twists. the fabric gathers together and pinches at the skin of zhengting’s neck dangerously. zhengting swallows.

 

“this,” xukun grits out through clenched teeth. “i want it off.” he hauls zhengting to his feet, still holding him by his collar. zhengting’s hands instantly go to the hem of his shirt. slowly, so slowly zhengting knows he might get punished for it later, he inches his shirt up over his head, higher and higher.

 

a rush of cold air hits his body, and he feels his nipples harden. before he even has a chance to take a breath, xukun’s toppled him over, his naked back flat on the table. his shirt drops to the ground, forgotten. xukun runs his hands up the length of zhengting’s torso, exploring the expanse of skin and muscle admiringly. he lowers his head to zhengting’s dick, mouths at the hardness through his pants. he shifts up a few inches to suck at zhengting’s tattoo.

 

zhengting tries very, very hard not to fidget. he holds his breath as xukun licks a long stripe up his body, tensing as his tongue stops right before he reaches zhengting’s nipple.

 

“ _look at this,”_ xukun coos reverentially. “oh, look at this. did you do this for daddy, baby?”

 

zhengting keens, arching off the table as xukun blows on his right piercing, mouth so close to his skin he can feel the heat of xukun’s breath. “yes,” he cries, “i did it for you, daddy.”

 

xukun flicks the metal barbell experimentally, soaking in the way zhengting jolts in shock. “did it hurt,” he asks, deceptively casual.

 

zhengting nods shakily.

 

xukun smiles, trails his index finger in a gentle circle around zhengting’s nipple, then in a flash, he pinches the tip and _twists_.

 

the sound zhengting lets out is barely human, somewhere in between a sob and a moan.

 

“ah,” xukun says, still too casual, still digging his fingers into zhengting’s sensitive skin. “you always did like it when it hurt, didn’t you, kitten?”

 

“kun,” zhengting whimpers, “ _kun.”_

 

xukun shakes his head mockingly. he brings his other hand up and gently caresses zhengting’s other nipple, before his thumb bites down against the barbell, driving the metal down into zhengting’s skin. wetness pools at the edge of zhengting’s eyelids, a single tear leaking down his cheeks. xukun licks it away. “kitten,” he purrs. “you look so good, you’re so beautiful like this.”

 

zhengting flushes red with embarrassment, hiding his face behind his hands. which, oh, that won’t do at all. xukun kisses the barbell pierced through zhengting, soft and warm. then he bites around it, tugging at it with his teeth.

 

although it’s still muffled by his hands in front of his face, zhengting’s whine rings out through the room. xukun leans forward and presses his lips to zhengting’s pinky finger, then his ring finger, methodically kissing his way across zhengting’s hands, until zhengting peeks out shyly. “you’re being mean,” he says.

 

“sorry,” xukun says, unapologetically. he darts another kiss to zhengting’s nose, smiling at the way zhengting’s nose scrunches up at his touch.

 

zhengting moves his hands away from his face, finally. then, looking away, he licks his lips nervously and asks, “can you do that again?”

 

“do what again,” xukun says.

 

zhengting’s gaze flickers towards him, then back to the side. he hesitates. “can you,” he starts, then stops.

 

“can i…?”

 

zhengting inhales. “can you bite it again,” he asks.

 

xukun grins, and it’s _wicked._ “oh, kitten,” he says, “all you have to do is ask.”

 

placing his hands on either side of zhengting to support himself, xukun focuses all his attention on zhengting’s pink, hardened nipples. he suckles on the hard metal piercings, turning them over again and again in his mouth. the sound of zhengting panting and mewling echoes in xukun’s ears like music. he savours it, alternating between digging his teeth into zhengting’s skin and soothing the bites with his tongue.

 

“one day,” xukun muses, “i’m going to make you come just like this, just from me playing with your pretty little nipples.”

 

“don’t say that,” zhengting gasps, “ _unless you mean it_.”

 

“not today,” xukun tells him. “it’s been too long for me not to touch all of you.”

 

he turns his attention to the button of zhengting’s jeans, but zhengting stops him before he can start pulling them open. he lowers his eyelashes and says, “i have another surprise for you too, daddy.”

 

xukun pauses and leans back. breathes in and out. then he says, “okay, kitten. show daddy your surprise.”

 

he watches as zhengting’s fingers drift towards his waistband, popping open the button of his jeans, and slowly unzipping the front. as the zipper lowers, xukun thinks he sees a trace of dark red lace. then zhengting pushes his jeans down past his hips, and xukun’s soul almost leaves his body.

 

“i,” he says, staring at the lacy panties cupping zhengting’s dick, “am going to _ruin_ you.”

 

zhengting can’t wait.

 

he peels his jeans off the rest of the way, and kicks them off. xukun steps in between his bare legs, running his hands up and down the skin of zhengting’s thighs. zhengting props himself up on his elbows, looks at xukun, and frowns. “daddy,” he pouts, “you’re wearing too many clothes.”

 

xukun looks down at himself. he’s still fully clothed, a stark contrast to zhengting laying on the table in nothing but his lace panties. “yeah,” he says, settling back down in his chair. “you should fix that.”

 

zhengting pouts even more, but he sits all the way up so that he’s facing xukun. he yelps as xukun takes hold of his hips and yanks him forward, off the table, until he’s straddling xukun’s lap. zhengting’s face heats up at the sudden proximity.

 

xukun arches an eyebrow expectantly.

 

zhengting lifts his hands to the top button of xukun’s shirt, hyperaware of the fact that his fingers have the slightest tremble to them. with a patience he doesn’t feel, zhengting undoes the buttons of xukun’s shirt, fabric falling apart to reveal the pale skin of xukun’s chest. it’s too tempting for him to resist putting his mouth to, so he does, nipping and licking at xukun’s collarbone greedily. there’s a sharp pain that stops him, xukun’s fingers yanking his head back by the strands of his hair.

 

“i don’t think i said you could do that, did i, kitten?” xukun says disapprovingly.

 

zhengting hangs his head, ashamed. “no, daddy.”

 

with gentle fingers, xukun tilts zhengting’s chin up so that he’s looking him in the eye. “if you’re so eager,” he smiles, “maybe you should open yourself up today?”

 

“no,” zhengting whines, “i want you, i want you to do it, please.”

 

xukun clicks his tongue and says, “i don’t think you deserve that.” he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and it joins zhengting’s on the ground. he shifts zhengting around in his lap so that his chest is pressed flush against zhengting’s back. he wriggles his fingers underneath zhengting’s thighs and hoists them up, spreading his legs apart. zhengting plants his feet against the edge of the table, leaving his entrance exposed against the cold air.

 

“come on,” xukun coaxes. “touch yourself for daddy.”

 

zhengting hesitantly reaches between his legs and pulls his panties to one side, pushing his thumb against his rim. he feels xukun shuffle behind him, hears a click, and then a cool liquid dribbles down over his fingers. xukun squeezes the bottle of lube again over zhengting’s asshole. “it’s been a while, hasn’t it, kitten? since you’ve had daddy’s cock in you?”

 

zhengting shivers, xukun’s voice at his ear sending vibrations down his spine.

 

“put one finger in,” xukun instructs.

 

zhengting rubs the lube between his fingers, warming it up. he’s still holding his panties to one side, so with his his other hand, he nudges at his entrance with his index finger.

 

“that’s good, just like that.” xukun talks him through it, and when zhengting’s whimpers turn from discomfort to pleasure, xukun says, “another one now, kitten.”

 

so zhengting puts in two fingers, then three. he fucks them in and out of himself, gasps of pleasure falling from his mouth. “please,” he begs, “ _please touch me_.”

 

xukun rubs at the edge of zhengting’s rim, feeling where he’s stretched full around himself. “you’re being so good for me, kitten,” he praises. he applies a touch of pressure, and for a second, zhengting thinks he’s going to slide his own finger in next to zhengting’s.

 

“daddy,” zhengting says. he swallows in anticipation.

 

xukun retracts his hand. “next time,” he promises.

 

with a hand at the base of zhengting’s spine, xukun tips zhengting over, until zhengting’s chest thuds against the coolness of the kitchen table. his feet stumble to stability, finding their way flat against the ground. he thrills at the way the metal cutting through his nipples presses back into him, blurring the line between discomfort and arousal.

 

xukun kicks zhengting’s legs apart and slides into the space between his thighs. he pulls his sweatpants halfway down his thigh, his erect dick popping out into the cold air. from behind him, he grabs the discarded bottle of lube, squeezes out a little over his fingers and lathers it over himself. he takes the opportunity to prod his fingers into zhengting’s entrance and test how easily they slide in, even though zhengting’s just stretched himself open.

 

zhengting’s always had a bad habit of telling xukun he’s ready even when he’s not, when he’s still just a touch too tight.

 

(“i like the way it hurts,” zhengting told him once, when xukun asked. “it means i’ll be able to feel you for days after, that i won’t even be able to sit properly without thinking about you.”)

 

xukun only sometimes calls him out on it.

 

today is not one of those days. zhengting’s loosened himself up properly, lube dripping generously from his hole. xukun lines himself up, letting the tip of his dick graze zhengting gently.

 

zhengting makes a wilted sound at the teasing touch. he turns his head over his shoulder and fixes him with a baleful glare. “daddy,” he says, “hurry up and fuck me.”

 

xukun snorts, raising his eyebrows. “is that the way you talk to me,” he asks sternly, but zhengting can hear the humour in his tone. xukun slaps zhengting’s ass so hard it leaves a mark, red and hot.

 

zhengting groans, trying very hard not to beg for another hit. instead, he reaches back and spreads himself wide for xukun. he lowers his eyelashes, and in the way he knows drives xukun mad, he says, “please, i’ve been so good, i missed you so much, i need to feel you inside me, _please.”_

 

how can xukun possibly refuse when his kitten is pleading so prettily?

 

he hooks his fingers in the band of zhengting’s panties, and twists them to the side, holding them as he very slowly and deliberately guides himself into zhengting. zhengting inhales sharply as xukun bottoms out.

 

“tell me when to move, kitten,” xukun soothes, stroking comforting circles into zhengting’s spine.

 

zhengting swallows, letting his body get used to the stretch of xukun after four long months. xukun curls his arm around zhengting’s waist, taking zhengting’s erection in his hand. he dips his thumb into the tip, wrangling a full body shiver from the other boy. “it’s okay now,” zhengting tells xukun softly. “you can move.”

 

xukun snaps his hips forward. he drives into zhengting at a brutal pace, then alternates to something so torturously slow zhengting wants to scream. he switches between the two, hard and fast, soft and slow. throughout it all, he keeps his mouth on zhengting, bending forward to bite kisses in between zhengting’s shoulderblades.

 

the sounds of zhengting’s cries ring through the kitchen, paired with the steady slap of skin against skin. xukun wrenches his fingers into zhengting’s hair, yanking his head back until his back arches off the table. “that’s it, kitten, come on. tell me, does daddy’s dick feel good inside you?”

 

“yes,” zhengting cries out, “daddy, it feels so good, _i want more.”_

 

xukun clicks his tongue sympathetically. “poor baby,” he teases, but his own breath is coming short. with the hand that isn’t tangled in zhengting’s hair, xukun reaches around and flicks zhengting’s nipple, tugging at the metal piercing with his nails.

 

that’s what sends zhengting over the edge, and with a cry, he spills his orgasm all over the table. xukun follows him a few moments later, and zhengting moans at the feeling of hot come leaking all over his insides. xukun pulls out, slumping back into the chair and bringing zhengting into his lap.

 

“kitten,” xukun says disapprovingly as he looks at the white stains of come zhengting’s left on the table. “look at the mess you’ve made. make sure you clean it up.”

 

obediently, zhengting leans forward, lapping at his own orgasm with his tongue, gathering it inside his mouth. he swallows it down, and opens his mouth to show xukun.

 

“good boy,” praises xukun. he draws zhengting close and drops a gentle kiss to his forehead. zhengting’s eyelashes flutter closed as xukun kisses his eyelids next, then his nose, then down to his lips. he licks into zhengting’s mouth with a slow reverence, tasting the remnants of zhengting’s come.

 

zhengting rests his head on xukun’s shoulder, still coming down from his high. “i didn’t even shower yet,” he mumbles.

 

“we can shower together,” xukun offers.

 

zhengting opens one eye and peers at xukun suspiciously. “will you wash my hair,” he asks.

 

“sure, babe,” xukun promises, tucking his chin on top of zhengting’s head. “i’ll even give you a massage if you want.”

 

zhengting looks very, very tempted. “okay,” he says, “i missed you. a lot.”

 

“yeah,” xukun laughs, pulling zhengting into an even tighter embrace, revelling in the way zhengting sinks into his hold like he's exactly where he's meant to be. “yeah. me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me on twitter [@zhngzyi](https://twitter.com/zhngzyi)!!!!


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